Italy, Part Five

Our last night in Italy was by far one of the weirdest experiences of my entire life. We had spent the day travelling from Barletta to 'Farmland' and the first part of the evening exploring the surrounding villages. We drove back to the town (it really was just a medium sized village) we were staying in as we had a reservation in a restaurant there. 

I don't remember being given menus, I'm pretty sure the waiter just told us what was on offer that evening. I deferred to Anna's advice like normal and ordered beef served in a lemon sauce. I know it doesn't sound that pleasant but it was delicious. Anna ordered herself freshly caught fish in a light batter, a dish she loved and had whenever she was there in August (it was only served when in season). I tried some of it and it was possibly the best food I've ever tasted, it was stunning. 

This was when the evening became bizarre. Filippo had ordered a jug of wine for the table and him and Anna had been drinking it throughout the meal. That was the last time we were with Anna properly for the rest of the evening. Somehow she left before us (I assume to go back to the car) but we found out much later that she'd gone back to the flat and had fallen asleep.

When we initially walked after her and tried to find her, we passed an open set of heavy wooden doors that looked in on a room full of farm style objects. There was a small group of people in there, stood around a man who looked a lot like a farmer. 

I'm not sure whose idea it was to walk in (definitely wasn't mine or Tom's) but the next thing we knew, we were stood in some kind of museum room with a bunch of Italian people who then LEFT, leaving just me, Tom, Domenica and Filippo with looks-like-a-farmer-man. 

I feel like I should point out now that the only people in the room with a full grasp of English was me and Tom (well, as much as Tom has anyway). Domenica can speak very good English but this situation far surpassed what she was capable of. Filippo can only say a handful of words, one of which is bondage. The most Italian Tom and I can speak is the phrases we had picked up that week (Can I have/Can I help etc) and Tom's list of Italian food names.

This wasn't a language barrier, this was some kind of fortified language castle. For all we knew, we had just been kidnapped by the Mafia. 

An array of tools on one of the walls that did nothing to calm mine or Tom's nerves/misgivings

The looked-like-a-farmer guy started to cut some meat he had on the table, while Tom and I tried to figure out what the hell was going on. 

Very proud of this selfie because we were stood in a group of 10+ people and no one saw me take it

We eventually learnt that this was a museum/show room all about the local cheese farmers/production. The looked-like-a-farmer man had been a cheese farmer, and Domenica learnt that a relative of hers had been as well (there was a photo of him on the wall). We were offered red wine, dried pork and a small plate of other little snacks while the group of us talked. I declined everything (I've tried that pork stuff before and it tastes like hardened play dough) but Tom of course tried everything he was given.

I had to stop making eye contact with Tom in the end because the strangeness of our situation kept making me want to laugh out loud. We both desperately turned down the offer to try on some traditional clothes (mainly because we weren't actually sure what they were asking us to do) and other than some intense miming between me and Domenica, we stayed pretty quiet for the hour or so we were in there. 

On our way out we were asked to write in the guest book "in English". I picked up the pen and was just lost for words. I didn't know what to write because I wasn't even sure I knew what had happened. I think I said something like "had a great time" because all Tom wrote was "Same. Tom Vale." 

Our night didn't end there though. Somehow Filippo bumped into people that he knew so we spent the next 45 minutes sat on a bench/a wall with a group of young, drunk Italians. It got to the point when we were starting to talk slowly/simply to each other because it had been so long since we'd been in the company of someone else who spoke English. Someone who spoke English did turn up at one point though (she had done a year abroad in Dublin so she spoke with a strange Irish/Italian accent) and so she was able to tell us that we had been invited to a house party in the mountain.

A house party in the mountain... I wasn't even surprised by that point.

If it hadn't been 1/2 in the morning, and if we didn't have to spend the next day travelling we would definitely have said yes to that (especially Tom ;)). Instead, Domenica offered to drive us back to the flat before going on to the party with Filippo. We slept in bunk beds that night (I wish I'd filmed Tom getting on/off the top bunk) and I was so glad to finally be in a situation that made sense (even if it did mark the end of the holiday). 

The following day was spent travelling home. We had a 2 hour car journey to Rome, a 2 hour wait to check in my suitcase (I am so sorry Tom), a 2 hour flight then when we finally landed in the UK we got ourselves a Domino's while we waited for Tom's Dad to pick him up. Despite being happy to be home (family, Anthony, home comforts), I was absolutely gutted that the trip was over. I'd had so much fun and it would be such a long time until we'd all be together again (ONE WEEK TODAY THOUGH) that I was just sad it was all over. 

We'll just have to do it all over again next year!